


i try to picture me without you but i can't

by endofadream



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, slight exhibitionism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 03:18:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3311966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endofadream/pseuds/endofadream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We don’t have a lot of time,” Lee says, shutting the door and twisting the latch behind him. He turns to greet the intensity of Richard's gaze, finds himself shifting his weight and swallowing hard. This is such a terrible idea, it really is, but Lee loves every second of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i try to picture me without you but i can't

“We don’t have a lot of time,” Lee says, shutting the door and twisting the latch behind him. He turns to greet the intensity of Richard's gaze, finds himself shifting his weight and swallowing hard. This is such a terrible idea, it really is, but Lee loves every second of it.

Though it’s late and it’s a small restaurant, and though he and Richard and the rest of the dwarves (Martin included) are nearly the only ones left, there always remains the possibility of someone else wanting to use the bathroom. And Lee would rather be safe than sorry when it comes to this. “There’s only so much that fake phone calls can buy us,” he adds.

“Then we’ll just have to make the most of it, won’t we?” Richard asks. There’s that low purr to his voice, the one that always makes Lee shiver, and blue eyes glint wickedly as Richard looks up, hands smoothing over Lee’s shoulders, the tips of his fingers lingering for just a few seconds longer than necessary.

Their eyes dart down, locking on each other’s mouths, before they’re moving in, Lee’s hands on Richard’s face and Richard’s on the buttons of Lee’s shirt. It’s messy, hurried, slick and echoing in the bathroom in a way that heats Lee’s cheeks, has him moaning against the velvet press of Richard’s tongue. He switches angles, sucks on Richard’s lower lip and is rewarded with a low groan. He matches it when Richard finally yanks his shirt free from his pants and slides his palms up over Lee’s belly. In their wake his skin tingles, hot and cold all at once.

“Stall,” Lee pants, already working at the button and zip of Richard’s jeans with all the fumbling grace of a teenager. He tilts his head back and to the side when Richard kisses up his neck and meets his own eyes in the mirror behind them: He’s almost unrecognizable, skin flushed red with want, lips swollen and hair mussed, and it stokes something in him, a kindling to a fire that coughs up a spark. For a second he envisions a different scenario: Richard gripping onto the sink, both of them staring into the mirror as Lee fucks into him hard—

Lee tears his gaze away and dips back down to press a biting kiss to Richard’s lips, tugging his jeans open and flipping their positions to back Richard into the stall nearest to them. It’s tantalizing to imagine, but it’s something that will require time, perhaps in the bathroom of their place back in New York. Lee has always said that Richard has so many subtle nuances, more than he’s given to any character, when Lee’s working him over, and if he gets to see those on the big screen why can’t he see the ones that he produces just for them?

The door bangs shut, too-loud and echoing in the room, but Richard’s mouth is on his again and he’s licking into Lee’s as he gets Lee’s jeans open with an impatient grunt, shoving his hand in to wrap around him.

Lee gasps, biting down on Richard’s lower lip. One hand slaps against the stall, Lee stumbling and squeezing his eyes shut at the rush of pleasure. It’s almost hilariously cramped in here, especially for two taller-than-average men, Lee’s calves backed up against the cold porcelain of the toilet bowl and Richard’s back pressed almost flush to the door, but all Lee does is moan at the tight-dry slide of Richard’s fist, beg oh shit faster as he loses himself in the familiar sensation with small bucks of his hips.

Richard shakes his head, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to Lee’s shoulder. “Nuh-uh,” he replies, hoarse and deep. “Don’t want you coming like that.” He begins to work Lee tight and fast just under the head, the sounds growing slicker and filthier, and Lee trembles, his legs threatening to give out. The moan he lets out is strained, plaintive, wordless but not without clear direction, and Lee tangles his fingers in Richard’s hair.

He tugs Lee further up out of his underwear, palms his balls and says, kissing along Lee’s jaw, “Want you to come in me.”

The tail-end of Lee’s answering groan is muffled into the palm of Richard’s clean hand. He looks down and is greeted with an amused twist to Richard’s mouth, his eyes wide and imploring. Lee wets his lips and tries to trick his mind into actually thinking clearly.

There are a hundred things that he wants to say, most of them beginning with _who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend_ , but he’s spared having to answer by Richard saying casually as he works Lee’s cock with twisting pumps, “All this sneaking around we do turns me on.”

“You little minx,” Lee says in response, going slack-jawed. Richard is constantly surprising him, going from mild-mannered to dominant, meek to exhibitionistic. It’s a whirlwind that Lee is more than happy to be constantly on his toes for. “Do you realize how many hotel rooms we could’ve wrecked if you had told me this sooner?”

It’s Richard’s turn to blush, now, cheeks turning a fetching shade of pink as he releases Lee’s cock. “I suppose,” he starts slowly, fidgeting in the tiny space of the stall that he’s allowed, “that you’ll be pleased, yeah, if I told you that you don’t need to worry about any foreplay?”

Lee opens his mouth, about to wax poetic on the advantages and necessity of foreplay, when Richard’s words finally hit home. His mouth stays open as his eyes go wide, dart down, and his voice is slightly cracked as he says, “Are you—please tell me you’re not joking.”

Richard draws his lower lip between his teeth, fingers teasing at the waistband of his underwear. Slowly he shakes his head. Lee whines, says, “Oh fuck, Rich. Is—from last night, still?”

“Kind of.” Richard starts tugging at his pants and Lee helps him, letting out a tiny sound when he gets Richard’s cock free. Wrapping his hand around it Lee begins to work him slow and tight, and Richard’s next words are breathless and thready: “I— _uhn_ —I might’ve stretched myself earlier.”

Arousal burns hot and bright through Lee, quick like it’s in his veins. He stills, ignoring Richard’s disappointed whine, and says, empathetically, “I love you.”

In return he gets a laugh, gets Richard’s bright smile and a quick kiss. “I love you, too. Now can we _please_ hurry it up? I’d rather Martin _not_ come knocking on the bathroom door.”

Lee had almost forgotten that they were on a time crunch. It’s so easy to with Richard; it isn’t a stretch to say that when they’re together the rest of the world all but melts away. It’s not something that Lee has ever experienced before, at least on this caliber, and it’s taken some getting used to. Still he can remember when this had scared the shit out of him, had made him reticent to get as close to Richard as he was yearning to. Lee loves easily but falls into it cautiously and, as a result, rarely at all.

Richard has a small packet of lube in his wallet (“If you don’t stop surprising me,” Lee says, “I’m going to have a heart attack and it’s going to be all your fault.”) and Lee has a condom. They kiss again, handsy and desperate, mouths meeting with slick-hungry sounds that make Lee’s cock throb, before Lee is spinning Richard around. Richard braces his hands on either side of the stall as Lee tugs his pants down first, then Richard’s. Their belts clink against their thighs, loud against the ragged panting of their breath.

“You look so gorgeous like this,” Lee murmurs, sliding the condom on. Pushing up the hem of Richard’s cardigan Lee drops the wrapper on the floor, doing the same for the lube packet once he’s slicked his cock. “You ready?”

“When have I ever not been?”

Lee bites back a comment about their first time together when they’d been too-drunk off of pinot noir to do anything other than fumble like they’d never touched another human being before and how it had been the first—and so far only—time that Lee has ever actually caught Richard off guard. Lee sometimes swears that Richard is still making up for that by constantly surprising him at every opportunity.

He teases, mostly because he can’t help it, placing the slicked head of his cock at Richard’s hole. He pushes slightly but nowhere near enough to give. Richard whines in response, arching back and groaning when Lee rubs up and down the divide of his ass instead. Lee smirks, stroking Richard’s hip with his free hand. “You want it?”

“You know bloody well that I want it. Stop teasing, you giant arse, and just _fuck me already._ ”

Lee pushes in hard without warning, the initial tightness of the outer muscle relaxed, stretching easily, and sinking to the hilt. Richard lets out a shout and Lee puts his hand over his mouth, trembling at the clenching heat tight around him.

Richard’s whine is muffled as Lee rocks his hips back. His fingers scrabble at the cold steel of the stall, head drooping as Lee slowly feeds his cock back in, working Richard over with short, tiny thrusts. He keeps his free hand on Richard’s hip, digging in and getting a shiver in response, Richard’s legs trying desperately to spread wider, take Lee deeper.

After Lee picks up a rhythm he drops his hand cautiously and Richard hangs his head, letting out harsh, panting gasps that rise gooseflesh on Lee’s arms. Both hands go to Richard’s hips, now, gripping and holding him steady. Richard pushes back in response, meeting Lee’s next thrust with a lewd slap of skin. They both moan and Richard begs, “ _Faster_. Lee, c’mon. Give it to me.”

“Yeah,” Lee murmurs, nonsensical. He pushes Richard’s shirt and cardigan up further, splaying his hand wide on the pale skin of Richard’s lumbar region. Under his palm he feels the work of strong muscle, the flex of it and the movement of Richard’s spine. He shifts slightly, working around the protrusion of the toilet bowl, and finds a new angle. He fucks in harder, searching for that spot.

Richard grunts and Lee tries again, pushes in deep and grabs Richard’s hair in his fist, tugging hard and yanking Richard’s head back. The yell he lets out is strangled, dissolving into strings of mutterings, “Oh fuck right there harder,” and “Please don’t stop oh my god fuck me.” Eventually they become muffled as Lee covers Richard’s mouth again, panting as he starts fucking into him harder.

“Touch yourself,” he says, sliding his hand down the front of Richard’s thigh and back up over the curve of his hip. He grabs a handful of Richard’s ass and squeezes, the answering exhale moist against his palm. He _needs_ it, needs to see it, to feel it. He’s so close that he aches with it, the muscles in his belly clenching as he fucks Richard harder, drawing out muffled yelps and whimpers.

A hand slides under and then Richard is shaking, trembling, hunching as his body shifts, his arm moving jerkily. Lee knows the signs, knows that Richard is close. Sweat sticks his shirt to his body, Richard’s skin damp around Lee’s clutching fingers. The stall shakes slightly, trembling in its foundation as Lee rolls his hips harder, pressing close and changing angles and giving it everything. Behind Lee’s hand Richard’s noises hitch up a step, growing wild and desperate, and it makes Lee’s belly flip, his mind running static and hazy with the carnal desire to have, to take, to make and mark as his own. Lee grips Richard’s cheek, spreads him as best he can one-handed and pushes in, in.

Richard comes with a muffled shout, something high-pitched and long. He clenches sinfully around Lee, twitching as he rides his high. Lee lets his hand drop and Richard’s tiny whimpers are loud, overwhelming, as they burrow under Lee’s skin like an infection.

Richard doesn't turn, just braces himself on the stall again. “C’mon,” he says. His voice is slow, low and fucked-out and dazed. He arches back and fucks himself lazily on Lee’s cock. “Come in me, Lee, come on.”

Lee presses his forehead to the small of Richard’s back, presses deep and shudders as he comes in pulses into the condom. He has to remind himself to breathe through it, sucks in great lungfuls that do nothing to calm the rapid beating of his heart.

Seconds go by without either of them making any effort to move and Lee finds that he’s pretty okay with that. Partly because he loves the intimacy right after, the comfortable silence as they catch their breath, and partly because Lee isn't entirely sure that he’s going to be able to move after this.

Unfortunately reality sets in quickly, and Richard is moving, starting to straighten up and saying, “People are going to start to wonder.” And Lee’s reminded that they're in the _bathroom_ of a restaurant in New Zealand, with their friends and castmates probably wondering where they’d gone.

With a groan Lee straightens up, holding onto the condom as he slowly pulls out. He works on discarding it as Richard turns and begins doing up his pants and they meet in the middle, kissing slow and lazy once they’re as presentable as they can possibly be.

Lee pulls back and runs a hand through Richard’s hair. There’s no helping it, and there’s no hiding the ruddy tinge to his cheeks, either, or the kiss-swollen redness to his normally-thin lips. His eyes are glassy and a little unfocused still. Immediately Lee kisses him again.

“We need to get going,” Richard says against Lee’s lips. Lee whines and receives a gentle slap on his ass in return, gasping. Richard chuckles, adds, “It’s been too long, Lee.”

And he’s right, it has been. He tries to fool himself into thinking that they can pull this off, that no one will ask questions, but they hadn't been exactly subtle and their friends aren't stupid, either.

So it’s no surprise when they return back to the dining area and receive far too many smug, knowing glances, and despite Lee being a grown, nearing middle-age man, he feels his face and neck heat. It feels oddly like he’s done something wrong.

He’s quick in grabbing his seat, tries to keep his head down. Richard sits next to him and Lee can’t stop thinking about being inside him minutes ago. He’s lost in his own world, stealing glances to the side in between lines of blurring, nonsensical text about the dinner entrees, and nearly jumps when Martin leans over, asks in a voice far too loud for Lee’s taste, “So how were those phone calls, mate? Were they… _stimulating_?"

It garners roaring laughter, good-natured jibes. Though Lee takes it in stride, noticing that though Richard is red-faced next to him he’s still smiling and giving it as good as he’s getting it, the elbow to Martin’s ribs and the accompanying pained grunt is still more than satisfying.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr (endofadream)


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